


Ellipsis

by theoceanpath



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Gen, Of course Yuzu gets a leading lady, Of course this doesn't have to make sense, Of course we know who she is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoceanpath/pseuds/theoceanpath
Summary: In which Yuzu is in a fairy tale because #UnfairJudgingISU tipped the balance of the universe and...And......
Comments: 46
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

_I don't even have a fairytale to start with._

_But I have a fairy. A pink fairy..._

* * *

_Ping! Swoosh! Thud!_ The trap set by the Union slams down.

The fairy's wings tear off.

Its cage is ugly. Cherry blossoms press their wishes into runes wrenched out of cold iron.

The boy's head drops to his knees. He curls into himself, whimpers, and goes very still, hiding his disgrace from the world.

No music blesses the forest tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

_The fairy isn't the main character._   
_The main character must be someone drunk on love._

* * *

Yuzuru Hanyu's lips are cold and painful. He kissed the ice, did a hydro-spiral-kiss combo, and might have zayaked another kiss if his legs hadn't collapsed under the fatigue of the past week.

His display of affection is a bit too much, his coaches warn him. _Try to be more subtle,_ Tracy suggests. _There are many other ways of proving your love._

He can't help himself. It's becoming a habit. There is so much fondness for her in his heart that it feels like a mob of butterflies in his chest taking their first flight the moment he catches a glimpse of pure sparkling white.

Maybe this is how Romeo felt under his beloved's balcony. Parting is never sweet; it is only sorrow.

 _I wish I could love you bette_ r, he confesses to her, instinctively wrapping his medal ribbon around his finger like a ring.

His ice flickers. _His_ ice winks. He recognizes the gesture and pats her gently in return, eyelids falling shut in the stillness of the moment.

He feels sleepy all of a sudden.

_I need to go now. See you tomorrow._

He kisses her again.

When he opens his eyes, he’s by a lake in a forest. Before him is the most exquisite swan he has ever seen.

“Haru?” the swan asks him. “How were you able to escape?”

The swan is talking.

Yuzu rubs his eyes.

The swan is staring at him.

“Haru? Are you alright? What happened? And why are you wearing such strange garments?”

Yuzu looks at his clothes. He’s in his training gear. What’s so unusual about that?

“Did they hurt you?”

The swan speaks. This is a dream. It’s a weird dream.

At least it’s not a nightmare.

“Who are _they?"_ he asks the swan.

The swan’s response is to flap its wings, spraying him with freezing lake water.

“You’re not Haru,” declares the magical creature. “But you look like him. Who are you?”

Haru, as in _Haru Yo Koi_? This dream is getting weirder and weirder.

“Yuzu. Hanyu Yuzuru.”

“Are you a wizard? Are you the king’s banished brother?”

“Eh? No. I’m not a prince. I’m a _skater.”_

“A skater. Whatever that is, you at least do not appear to be a Union spy,” the swan concedes. “My name is Notte Stellata. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

It waddles forward and bows to him, curving its elegant neck into a near perfect crescent. Yuzu bows in return and is about to ask where exactly Notte Stellata got its ability to speak when a voice calls from the edge of the clearing.

“¡Hola!” shouts someone dressed in an aerobics suit. In the middle of a forest. In his dream.

“Prometo!” gasps the talking swan. “You made it back!”

_Prometo?_

“I am safe, but some of my men were captured. I’m sorry. We did our best, but we failed to rescue Haru.”

“Please don’t be too harsh on yourself. The revolution is not yet a failure. There are still many who remain faithful to the De La Mancha household. They will surely join our side one day,” Stellata assures the exhausted aerobics instructor.

“Will they really? We lack funds. And the Union keeps handing out free GOEs like candies. We can’t fight against that!”

“GOEs?” Yuzu interrupts. “You mean Gr--"

“Grenades and Other Explosives,” Prometo explains to him. “And hey, have I seen you before? You look familiar.” Prometo studies him from head to toe, frowning. “You’re the spitting image of our missing fairy,” he announces. “Are you by chance related to our king?”

 _What king? What fairy?_ This dream is getting too convoluted for his liking. He’s supposed to be in Toronto, in the Cricket Club, on the ice. He was saying goodbye just minutes ago. He shouldn’t be asleep yet; it’s not a good idea to pass out on the floor of the rink.

He pinches his cheeks. _Wake up, wake up, wake up. It’s time to go home. Wake up._

He doesn’t.


	3. Chapter 3

_The fairy is sad. The fairy is scared. It is cruel to be granted wings and not be allowed to fly._

* * *

Against his will, Haru becomes the star attraction in a traveling circus. He peers from his cage where acrobatic feats unfold with barely anyone to gawk at them. The performers are waving flags of various sizes, and the ones with the biggest flags have the widest smiles on their faces. It’s a feast of spins and somersaults, flashing lights and toothed mascots resembling giant chocolate bars.

The place looks like an underground smuggling ring. In one corner armed men at the door are handing out deadly weapons to a line of grumbling contestants.

“Only two grenades?” one complains. “But the group before us got four each!”

“Wrong flag,” the custodian snaps at him. “Next please.”

“But that’s against the rules!”

_“Guidelines.”_

“But—”

“How many times must I repeat myself? The Circle of Nine make the decisions here. Dare you question their judgement? Would you rather be kicked out and your spot passed on to someone else? Believe me, there are so many from the Sovereignty of the North who are more than willing to take your place.”

Haru backs away to the other end of his cage. This is not a safe place. The people in suits watching from the sidelines are laughing at him; the old men in the corner glare as if they want him dead.

He slumps against the bars of his prison. It’s lonely here.

_Pooooh, where are you?_

A lady begins shrieking at him. Someone throws a piece of white fabric at his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: exposition, exposition, and a salt mine

_It's not even a story, is it?_

_No, it's a revolution. Could there possibly be anything coherent about that?_

* * *

"Don Quixote! We got a problem here!"

"What's the matter?"

"Stolen PCS. Told you this was bound to happen! I bet the Sovereignty of the North is behind this."

It's a hot morning and Yuzu takes his time acquainting himself with the brains behind the revolution. So far he's befriended a talking swan, the second and third in command, and the leader himself.

"I thought his name's Prometo. Why are they calling him _Don Quixote?"_ Yuzu asks one of the taller boys during a lull in the training routine.

"That's his alias," Junliet explains. "One of the first things you learn after joining the revolution is to use codenames to spare you from being arrested. If you're not careful, the roving police could send you to Bluebird Prison and let their minions scream at you all day. It's terrifying."

"Do they arrest everyone connected with the revolution?"

"No, as long as you don't complain too much you're safe. But they've singled out a few of us already— mostly folks who ask too many questions after battle and don't know how to keep their mouths shut."

"Hey, see that guy with the dragon on his shirt?" Noodleboy gestures to the bystanders gathered outside the window. "We call that dude _Ballerina Ankles._ And that one dressed like a penguin? He's the King of the Western Plains. His alias is the _Innovator._ Rumors say he owns a caravan of chickens trained in moderndance. And this guy over here is _Mr. Cowboy."_

"Noodleboy! You owe me something! Where's the stuff you borrowed last time?" the one in the cowboy hat reminds him.

"H-hey, you bought a new hat, didn't you? This one suits you better."

"But I miss the one that you very graciously _borrowed_ during our last encounter with the Union."

"Can you guys stop arguing for a second?" Prometo reprimands then. "We have a bit of a problem here. Someone stole our Pressurized Combustible Shrapnel."

"One of the federation's cohorts, no doubt."

"Ugh! Another robbery! The Circle of Nine keep stealing our PCS behind our backs!"

"How can the revolution continue without ammunition? The Union keeps supplying its members with unlimited GOEs, and now their allies are taking our last remaining weapons!"

"Shhh… lower your voices! Someone might report you to the authorities! You wouldn't want to land in Bluebird Prison, would you?"

Murmurs of dissent spread throughout the camp. What started as an innocent question now seems on the brink of erupting in an ugly street brawl.

"Stop! We can never beat the Union if we keep fighting among ourselves! Lower your hydroblades!" Prometo orders them.

The pack of grumbling rioters simultaneously place their water guns on the ground.

"Alright. Practice will commence in a few minutes. Noodleboy, you're in charge of showing our guest around."

"Aye, aye, Don Quixote!" Noodleboy complies, dabbing twice before grabbing Yuzu by the arm and dragging him aside.

Noodleboy leads him to a bench near the edge of the barracks and offers him a drink of water. "Okay, it's Question and Answer time. What do you want to know?"

"What's this Union everyone's talking about?" Yuzu asks first.

"The Implicated Swindlers Union. They steal our money and they steal our weapons and they make us look like fools in the eyes of the world. They are closely allied with the Sovereignty of the North, the Kingdom of the Western Plains, and the Republic of the Great Tower. The one country they refuse to make peace with is the Kingdom of the Eastern Isles."

"Why?"

"None of us know the answer to that. The king of the Eastern Isles is Don Quixote's close friend, and the Union hates him so much that they banned his emblem and keep spreading lies about him wherever he goes."

Noodleboy takes him to the courtyard. They pass by banners saying "Teddy B. for President!" and "We love you, Teddy Bear!" alongside many of the usual designs calling for justice and reforms.

When they reach the corridor, Yuzu hears music blasting from a nearby field, where a duo in matching cerulean and salmon leotards are leading a Union-sponsored training session.

_1-2-3-4! 1-2-3-4!_

"It's G&G," Noodleboy informs him. "From the Republic of the Great Tower."

"Where are we going?"

"To the river. There's someone I want you to meet. Maybe you can help him. You are willing to help us, aren't you?"

"I am. I told Prometo— I mean, Don Quixote, that I'm ready to offer my help if he needs me."

"Cool. Okay so the first thing you need to know is that identity passes sanctioned by the union must have a combination of three colors: red, blue, and white. Stars or stripes, horizontal or vertical—except triangles, of course— as long as you have those colors you'll be safe. On the other hand, red and white with barely any design is one of the unluckiest combinations here," Noodleboy continues, as they walk down the steep path. "What's yours?"

"Snow and scarlet."

"Hmm… doesn't look too good. If only you could add something fancy there…like a leaf."

Yuzu nods and they hurry along.

"Next you got to dress up right. Regular clothes or anything that won't attract attention. Nothing sparkly or fancy; when in doubt, plain black is best. Remember, we need to camouflage with our surroundings. The less we stand out, the better. The last thing you want is to end up like Prince Origin."

"Origin? Is he the king's brother Stellata was talking about?"

"Yeah, he was the royal alchemist of the Kingdom of the Eastern Isles. He spent the past year researching and developing a new weapon. Made of 4 parts Titanium, 1 part Europeum, 3 parts Fluorite, it was an amalgamation he claimed was strong enough to produce high-caliber GOEs. But when he presented it before the Circle of Nine, the Fourth Magistrate deemed his invention useless. The high court refused to acknowledge his achievement and chose to grant the prize to the Sovereignty of the North."

The road comes to an end, interrupted by a huge stream of water cutting through the rock. Like Noodleboy predicted, they find a man dancing by the river. He jumps into the air twice, looking more and more frustrated with himself. His routine comes to an abrupt end and his face crumples.

"I miss my hair," he mutters aloud, on the verge of tears after what could have been hours of practicing on his own.

"What's wrong with his hair?" Yuzu whispers to Noodleboy.

"The rules of the game are changing. Those GOEs they've been doling out lately are like nothing we've ever seen before. His quads aren't that stable yet, so the team decided he'd be able to fight better without all that hair weighing him down."

"What a noble sacrifice it was," Yuzu remarks, feeling a pulse of admiration for this stranger.

"Oh wait!" Noodleboy exclaims. "Practice is starting! We're gonna be late! Hurry!"

They rush back to the barracks with the river dancer, making it just in time for Yuzu to catch his breath before Prometo starts to address the young acolytes.

"Everybody, as you all know, we'll be training our quads today," Prometo's voice booms into his ear. "We need huge quads to stand a chance against the union. We need strength, endurance, and speed, if we want to put up a good fight. We may not have the best weapons, but if we work hard we'll be able to cover good height and distance. That will be our advantage in this fight. But first things first, can someone name all the quads? No shortcuts allowed."

A hand goes up.

"Yes, Junliet?"

"There are four quads: _vastus lateralis, vastus medialis, vastus intermedius,_ and _rectus femoris."_

"Well done, Junliet! Now let's start with a warm-up... come on everybody, let's stretch! Crunch! Stretch! Crunch! We're almost there! And—"

"Stretch!"

"Crunch!"

"Long live the Revolution!"

"Down with the Union!"

"Vengeance for my hair!"

All is well, it seems, until something slams into the roof and explodes.

"Look out!" someone screams. "They're armed with Grenades!"

"And Other Explosives!"

Another blast sends people running in all directions, and Yuzu can only stand and watch helplessly as the enemy rains down clouds of smoke and darkness that reach into his lungs and squeeze tight.


	5. Chapter 5

The venue is packed tonight. Princesses of the Sovereignty of the North have gathered here for a little bit of entertainment before they prepare to battle for the throne. Conversations from the audience drift to Haru’s ear, from rumors of the Revolution to idle gossip about Sir Ivanhoe and the Supernova.

"Why must I pay $1,500 to see this fairy?" one of them grumbles.

“You can go to the other exhibit if you wish. Their seats are at discounted prices and if no one shows up they’ll be giving away surplus tickets for free,” the man next in line suggests. “But you won’t get to see the fairy! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I wouldn’t miss it if I were you. Some even booked three nights straight and plan to return next week.”

“Seriously? All that money wasted on this fairy? Only fools would want to stare at the same boring thing over and over again!”

“How can you say that? There is nothing boring about the fairy! I would sell my house if meant I could gaze at this ethereal creature forever.”

“It _is_ boring. It does the exact same tricks over and over again. It wears the same ridiculous clothes and dances to the same repetitive music and there is no reason for these people to travel all the way here from the ends of the earth just to see this fairy that does nothing but stare at its own feet.”

The conversation fades, only to be replaced by another. There is more cheering, more jeering. Haru bites his lip and tries to drown out their words.

_It hurts._

He traces the gradually healing scar on his leg from the day the Union entrapped him. If only he could fly again.

Someone flashes a burst of light at him, followed by another, then a dozen more. He shields his eyes from the intense brightness.

“Polaroids not allowed!” a guard hollers in warning. “Anyone who disobeys will be kicked out.”

The flashes immediately come to a stop. A young girl approaches the cage and inserts a small toy bear between the bars.

“No gifts either!” the guard snaps. “Any tokens given to this fairy will be considered direct violation of the Union’s rules and a form of psychological warfare.”

The girl scurries back to her parents’ seats in near tears.

Soon the show is ready to begin. Nine men in black robes enter the room blindfolded. _All hail the Circle of Nine!_ the announcer barks to the rafters, as the appointed magistrates stumble to their seats and begin gesturing to invisible things no one else in the entire room can see.

Someone waves a fabric banner splashed with a galaxy in three powerful colors, and the Circle of Nine murmur among themselves. The next performer takes his place on stage. He wears a golden padlock around his neck, and flanking him is his caravan of dancing chickens.

He leaps and spins and falls, putting two hands down to steady himself. The magistrates cheers even louder. The man gets up and skips all the way around the stage along with his flock of chickens dancing.

The magistrates seem to be enjoying themselves tonight. They roll dice across the table every time the performer leaps into the air and count to five the moment he slides across the floor.

When it is over, men armed with Polaroids ask for remarks from the Circle of Nine.

"We are honored by this chance to watch you perform. It must have been extremely difficult for you to come today, considering the burden of the golden padlock that you bear. Without a doubt you alone are worthy of the crown," the nine blindfolded magistrates comment in unison.

"Your chicken dance was captivating," declares the first. "I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life."

"Please, accept our humble gift of PCS," adds the sixth in the group.

The King of the Western Plains accepts the donation with a bow. “My countrymen and I stand in awe of your boundless generosity. Thank you.”

“Such a groundbreaking performance, indeed! The spring fairy here pales in comparison to the sheer grandeur of what we just witnessed,” the ninth magistrate praises him.

Haru doesn’t know why his chest is aching. He clutches the stuffed toy bear with trembling fingers.

He has to get out of here fast.


	6. Chapter 6

“Yuuusuuuu!” the leader of the revolution screams, just as the cloud of darkness digs its claws into the skater’s lungs. Before he can process what happened, a pair of hands are dragging him away from the scene.

He gets to his feet and breaks into a run, thanking the riverdancer for saving him.

"Bluejay's Son. That's my codename," his savior says while trying to catch his breath.

“Watch out!” warns Junliet, leaping up from a spread-eagle position to dodging projectiles thrown in their direction. Not too far away, Prometo runs in sharp turns before hurling himself into air, quads straining with exertion as he manages to confuse the enemy and evade a fresh round of explosives.

“Hey, I know those guys!” Noodleboy points to the men standing by a desk. “They look like supporters of the Order of the Golden Padlock,” he hastily explains while sneaking a bite of chicken pot pie while ducking behind the boards.

Yuzu crawls behind his teammate, doing his best not to attract attention as banners rip apart and GOEs and PCS are tossed back and forth across the battlefield.

Next to him, Junliet is hunched over and gasping hard. “What are we going to do? The more they attack, the less Grenades and Other Explosives we have left! And we have barely any Pressurized Combustible Shrapnel to begin with!”

“We need to gather everyone and bring them to safety before we can make a move,” decides Prometo. “Hold on, does anyone know where I put the List of our members?”

“It’s with me,” pants the Bluejay's Son, fingers wrapped tight around a wrinkled sheet of paper. “I have the List.”

By now the Cowboy has made it to their temporary hideout. “Perfect!” he exclaims. “The List is safe, I found my hat, and I got an extra hydroblade.”

Junliet peers into the residual gray fog. The men connected with the Order of the Golden Padlock still loiter around, carrying polaroids and papers that they brandish like weapons. “But… there are too many sympathizers of the Kingdom of the Western Plains for us to contend with. And if… if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, some of our attackers are defectors from the Kingdom of the Eastern Isles!”

“Oh no! They’ve seen us! Everyone ruuunnn!”

Prometo, Yuzu, and the rest of the rebels have barely any time to twizzle away before the counter-rebellion opens fire at them again.

It feels like the end. Yuzu sprints away as fast as his legs can take him, but he loses his footing and falls on an unexpectedly slippery patch that wasn’t there a day before. Just when it seems that all is lost, a lady in a Bib spirals into the beautiful storm of smoke and cinders and spreads her wings to shield them from flying debris.

“Kara!” Junliet calls to her.

“You mean Kia,” Noodleboy corrects him.

Prometo’s brow furrows in confusion. “I thought her name’s Kiha?”

“Kira?” Bluejay's Son suggests, hastily scrolling through the names on the List. “I could have sworn her name was written somewhere in this note.”

“Who is she?” Yuzu inquires.

“Oh, she’s an international agent of peace. We tend to forget her name because the Union’s minions keep messing the letters up,” replies the Cowboy.

“She has been a great help in the fight against the Union. But because of that, she is the prime target of the Sovereignty of the North,” adds Prometo in a frustrated voice.

The agent of peace fires a few more GOEs and one by one their enemies begin to retreat. When it’s finally over and every trace of polaroids and papers has died down, the revolutionists let out a collective sigh of relief.

The agent of peace approaches them with a tired smile. Dust and ash has turned her turquoise garments into a dull shade, but she shrugs it off and announces, “I brought you guys something. Free energy drinks for everyone!”

The Cowboy whoops in gratitude. Noodleboy dabs twice.

“Ah, thank you, Milady. You’re such an Angel!” says Prometo.

“An angel who knows kung-fu !” Junliet chimes in.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of much help,” Bluejay's Son apologizes. “I really wish I had stronger quads. Guess I’ll have to train harder.”

“You still have time,” she reminds him. “Until the warrior princesses of the Sovereignty of the North reach here, you are safe.”

The Cowboy is not so optimistic. “But we’re still on the losing end. The Union is just so powerful. They’ve got connections everywhere. Intimidation tactics, campaigns, black propaganda— you name it; they’ve done it.”

“So, Don Quixote, what are we going to do?” asks Noodleboy.

“They got to have a weakness that we can exploit,” Prometo answers. “But what could it possibly be?”

“Everyone has a weakness. Even the greatest in the world— they just know how to manage it better,” Yuzu encourages him.

“He’s right, you know,” agrees Junliet. “No one is invincible.”

“Yes! That’s it! I got it! I can’t believe I didn’t think about this earlier!” Prometo says all of a sudden. His face is bursting with excitement and he’s just on the verge of doing jumping jacks on his seat.

“Yay, we finally have a plan!” claps Bluejay's Son.

Noodleboy gapes at him in shock. “You mean we didn’t actually have one before?”

“So? What did you figure out, Don Quixote?” asks the agent of peace.

“The Implicated Swindlers Union has a clear advantage over us in almost everything. Except for one little detail that we ought to have noticed before.”

“And that is?” Yuzu urges him to continue.

The leader of the revolution grins back at him. “The Union doesn’t have Undercover Stealth Bombs!” 

Noodleboy fistsbumps him. “You’re right! For all the money and power they got, they don’t even know how to operate a USB!”

Prometo eyes are twinkling with mirth right now. “And that’s what we’re going to do! Everybody, it's time to bring out the USBs!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the overwhelming support you’re giving this joke of a fic. Your comments truly revived my kuyashii heart. If anyone wants to read slightly better revolution-related stuff, I swear the other AUs I’m writing make more sense than this.  
> Again, much gratitude from the bottom of my autonomic system.


End file.
